


break like a comma

by windpipe



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, DannyMay 2020, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sort Of, emeto cw, lichtenburg figures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windpipe/pseuds/windpipe
Summary: a few days late. for dannymay 2020.day 23: lightning.
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton/Vlad Masters
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	break like a comma

Danny doesn’t like flying in the rain.

For one, it’s an extremely difficult task to accomplish. It’s wet, and windy, and at a certain point, the clouds and sky melt into each other like one big, gray blur. But more pressingly, Danny hates flying in the rain because of the -

_ Crack! _

A flash of white-hot electricity sears through the inky sky before driving itself into the ground, narrowly avoiding the ghost boy. It’s over as quickly as it happens, but he reels back a moment longer, frozen. It’s the most he can do to keep himself from dropping to the ground like a fly.

_ \- lightning. _

Yeah, Danny mostly hates the lightning.

He hadn’t  _ meant  _ to get caught out in the rain like this. Usually he does his best to steer clear of it. Sam and Tucker were there with him when it happened the first time; but they were understanding - supportive, even. They eventually convinced him to let them take over patrol whenever the skies start to sour.

He’s thankful to live in Amity, where the rainy seasons are short-lived. He already feels awful enough putting them out as much as he does.

Then there are times,  _ like this one,  _ where Danny gets caught out in a fight too late, and can’t always trust the weather app on his phone.

Usually he’s much closer to home, though.

_ It had been such a clear day, too, _ he thinks miserably.  _ Stupid app. Stupid weather. Stupid Technus. _

Lightning arcs across the sky again, tearing the darkness away in its wake. Danny jolts, petrified by the sight of a billion volts hurtling down to earth. It’s close enough for him to feel the heat through his jumpsuit for far too long to be safe. When it gutters out, an afterimage is burnt into his retinas. 

Danny tries to blink it away.  _ It’s  _ **_so_ ** _ much like the… - _ he doesn’t finish that thought. He tries his best not to think about it. Too much heat and green and pain; the smell of singed flesh and static and machine oil; a million volts shooting through every fiber of his being. He shudders, fighting down the Poptarts he’d snagged in between school and patrolling. Definitely does _ not  _ want to think about it.  _ Isn’t  _ thinking about it.

Danny doesn’t need to breathe as Phantom; to be honest, it’s kind of uncomfortable. Like moving a limb that’s gone numb. So when his chest starts to tighten with an oncoming anxiety attack, it’s especially disorienting.

The rain’s sheeting down when more lightning banks over the clouds. Danny tries his best to  _ snap himself out of it, _ as much as he looks like a deer in the headlights. Every single life-preserving instinct is yelling at him to  _ get the fuck out of there,  _ but he’s too afraid of getting caught transforming in the streets…

And not to mention, Fentonworks is on the other side of town. Even if he  _ can _ land, home is still miles away. Ectoplasm oozes from a gash, deep beneath his ribcage. He’s in no condition to walk.  _ Stupid ghost computers, stupid - _

More lightning. The strikes are getting closer as the storm’s apex crawls toward Amity. Danny’s brain is in overdrive as he coasts low to the town, fueled by adrenaline. There  _ has _ to be some way to escape. 

He’s scanning the ground, trying to find a place to land, when he realizes where he’s at. Suddenly, sticking it out in the rain sounds like the better option. But as another bolt of lightning rakes across the sky, he finds himself touching down reflexively.

In the mayor’s manor.  _ Vlad’s _ manor.

The courtyard is empty and dark. Danny tries to make himself small, standing there in the side shadows. Despite the yard’s vacant appearance, he knows he’s probably tripped some security feature just by entering the property.

As if on cue, Plasmius melts through the floor - all red eyes and fangs and  _ angry. _ In one hand, he stretches his cape up over his head to combat the downpour (Danny would’ve thought it funny, given any other circumstance); in the other, the hot-pink ball of ectoplasm he’s summoned sizzles with the falling rain.

“To what do I owe this visit?” He all but snarls.

Danny’s working his mouth, but nothing’s coming out. He doesn’t know how to explain himself. His brain’s a little shaken. Belatedly, he realizes,  _ he’s _ shaking.

Lightning cracks on the horizon again, and Danny nearly jumps a foot out of his skin.  _ Shit. _ Vlad is giving him a weird look.

“I, uh.” Danny stammers intelligently. He’s beginning to second-guess his decision-making skills - what was he thinking, coming to  _ Vlad’s? _ He takes a deep breath he doesn’t need. “Can I just - stay over? Until the rain’s done?”

It sounds lame, and he knows it. Vlad doesn’t comment, though. If anything, Danny thinks his pity-silence might be worse.

The magenta in his hand dissolves, and he pins Danny with a pensive look. “...Just till the rain’s done.” He eventually acquiesces, turning his back to Danny and sinking back through the floor. Danny doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing - taking Vlad’s lead and following him underground.

When they end up in Vlad’s lab, Danny’s surprised he’s not as terrified as he probably should be. If anything, he’s grateful for the barrier of ground between him and the rain. Just for a moment, Vlad’s lab provides a strange comfort.

He just barely catches the first-aid kit Vlad lobs at his head. His temper flares before he can register the kit for what it is - eyes flashing a murderous green. He looks down at the box, then at his side. Oh.  _ Oh. _

He tries to knock off the spooky-eye thing. “Uh… thanks,” he tries to sound appreciative, absentmindedly flicking the kit open.

Instead of being  _ normal, _ Vlad chucks another object at Danny’s head. He’s not so fortunate to catch it this time. It nails him in the temple before dropping to the floor.

“...A tissue box?”

Vlad scowls at him like he’s the most insufferable person on the planet. “For your face.” He returns, as if it’s obvious.

Danny scrubs at his cheeks with a gloved hand. No _ way _ \- when had he been  _ crying? _

“Ah, that was  _ definitely _ from the rain!” He protests, but it’s impossible to hide the way his face stains green. He not-so-subtly blows his nose.

Vlad clearly doesn’t buy it, but for a second time, the creep is silent. Danny can feel his eyes on him as he hops up on a spare filing cabinet and fishes for the disinfectant. It’s more than a little unnerving; for once, he’s beginning to miss their witty banter.

“What?” He finally asks, pulling a bottle from the first-aid kit. “You’re so quiet, I’d have thought you were telling me a history of your love-life.” Vlad’s face carves into a frown. That’s more like it.

“Is that any way to be treating the person who’s granting you asylum?” He returns darkly.

Danny’s drenching a wad of paper towels in disinfectant. “Don’t think you’re special, Fruit Loop. I could be anyplace else right now.”

Vlad crosses his arms over his chest. “So  _ why aren’t you?” _

“Um.” He fumbles for an easy fib. “Sam and Tuc are busy?”

Even beneath the layers of dirt and drywall and metal paneling, the thunderstorm can be heard. Danny’s questioning if the storm has worsened or if it’s just his heightened hearing when the sound of another lightning strike makes his mind go blank. Vlad’s about to challenge his bullshit, he knows it - but it dies on the tip of his tongue as Danny’s Poptarts make their escape.

Puking isn’t fun, period. Puking in  _ ghost form _ especially sucks - it has the same phantom feeling as breathing, but with an added gross factor.

Vlad squawks indignantly at the sizzling puddle of ectoplasm that now decorates his otherwise-pristine lab tiling. They certainly aren’t Poptarts anymore. Danny’s up on his feet before the bastard can start in on him.

“I-I’ll clean it up!” He hates the way his voice wobbles. He’s looking anywhere  _ but  _ Vlad, scrambling to grab a roll of paper towels. They do a shit job at cleaning the mess up - the ectoplasm eats through the material too quickly for him to wipe anything up, and his hands are shaking too much. He’s getting  _ real _ tired of the voice in the back of his head repeating,  _ dude, what the fuck are you doing? _

With an annoyed sigh, Vlad crosses the distance between them. He has some kind of black towel fisted in his hand. “Use this,” he mutters, shoving it in Danny’s face. He takes it quietly, eying the fabric for a moment before trying to sop up his former stomach contents. Vlad can’t help but look disgusted. “And  _ this.”  _ He says more sternly, grabbing a spray cleaner.

The cloth must be made of some sort of ectoplasm-resistant fiber, because it’s much more effective at cleaning the vomit. Danny sprays the area clean and pretends he isn’t having an out of body experience.

“Sorry,” he finally thinks to say. Normally he wouldn’t apologize - but he also wouldn’t normally yak all over Vlad’s lab, either. The tile has been clean for a minute now, Danny realizes. He’s been spaced out staring at the same spot on the floor since he finished.

“...Did something happen?” Vlad asks tentatively. The note of concern doesn’t match the Plasmius he knows at all. Danny subtly checks to see if he’s being overshadowed.

Only when he’s certain it’s Vlad just being his weirdo self does he let his gaze drop back to the ground. None of this is sitting right with him; it has to be a trap. Coming to Vlad’s was a mistake -  _ but the rain… _ He can’t fly home. He can’t escape.

Vlad’s looking down at him, and he hates it. He shoves himself to his feet, side gushing with the movement. He stifles a hiss.

“Since when do you care?” He chooses to say, mimicking the way Vlad crosses his arms.

“Since you took it upon yourself to involve me!” Vlad fumes. Danny feels more than sees his temper rise - his volatile fire core hiking the room temperature up by at least ten degrees. “Do you want my help or not?”

He… has a point. Vlad must be reading his face like an open book, because he has a shit-eating grin as he says, “May I remind you,  _ you _ showed up, wounded, requesting refuge at my place of residence.  _ Not _ the other way around.”

“Your  _ house. _ ” Danny can’t help but shoot back. “You don’t have to say stupid fancy shit all the time.”

Vlad looks ready to murder. “You’re allowed to stay here, but on the condition that you tell me whatever happened to you.” He says cooly, ignoring Danny’s remark.

Danny  _ wants _ to tell him  _ it’s none of his fucking business,  _ but what he says instead is: “It wasn’t, like, anything too bad. Really. Don’t worry about it.”  _ Smooth. _

Vlad’s arms are crossed again. He’s leaning up against a bookshelf. “Do I really need to kill the rest of you to get you to tell me?” He exhales steam, obviously irritated.

Danny gulps. “Seriously, it’s nothing.” Now  _ Vlad _ is the one giving him spooky-eyes.

He cringes. He  _ shouldn’t  _ be trusting Vlad. He’s been fucked over one too many times for him to  _ actually  _ die misplacing his trust like this

And yet… he sorta wants to trust Vlad. There’s always been something there - a tiny glimmer of hope. Is it wrong to kinda always wish he could change? They’re the only two of their kind - surely it’s natural to want to get along, just a little bit?

Danny cracks, just a little.

“Ran into Technus, ended up a little far from home.” He sighs frustratedly. “Then it started raining.”

“And what about  _ that?” _ Vlad’s gesturing where Danny’s vomit had been.

“And, what about that?” Danny returns.

“I know you’re an idiot, Daniel - but you’re not that dumb.” Outside, lightning continues to snap and crackle. He does his best to drive the noise out of his head. While Vlad develops a twitch in his left eye, Danny hops back up on the filing cabinet.  _ Back to business. _

His hands are unsteady as he liberally blots his side with the paper towel. Ectoplasm immediately begins to melt away the paper, but the disinfectant manages to do enough of a job - revealing the deep gash beneath the caky, emerald substance.

Vlad makes a face. “That’s going to need stitching.”

“Come near me with a needle and I’ll  _ end  _ you.”

Danny’s no doctor, and he knows it. Vlad has a hard time keeping his commentary to himself. “Do you have  _ any _ idea what you’re doing?”

Danny glares at him. No, he really doesn’t. His eyes drop back to the extra-large Band-aid in his hand. “...Sam usually helps with, uh, this kind of thing.” He admits.

Tucker never has had the guts for it, and medical situations make Danny queasy - so Sam is usually nominated to take over his not-so-small injuries.

Vlad pinches the bridge of his nose. He grumbles a few profanities under his breath before closing their gap and snagging the first-aid kit back from Danny. “Over here.” He says, storming off to an empty desk in the corner.

Danny floats behind him reluctantly. “Why here?”

Vlad sets the kit on the table. “I’m not about to work on a filing cabinet.” Noticing the concern that etches into Danny’s features, Vlad scoffs and looks away. “Don’t worry, there’s no trick. It’d be a shame for the both of us if you died from some insignificant infected wound, anyway.”

Danny’s eyes narrow. “And why’s that?”

Vlad’s cheeks are… red? “I only meant - it’d be a shame if you were to die before I get around to killing you.” He glowers, but his blush makes it the opposite of intimidating. Before Danny can say anything about it, Vlad demands him to get on the table.

Danny wants to trust Vlad. The more he thinks about it, he kinda  _ has _ to trust Vlad. Besides, there had been plenty of opportunity for Vlad to kick him while he was down - if he was planning something evil, wouldn’t he have already done something by now?

Danny sighs, but cooperates. He grits his teeth as he hops up onto the table, chest tight.

“You’re going to need to take this off.” Vlad says, poking at the jumpsuit.

Danny is immediately against the idea. “No way, José. The suit stays on.”

Vlad resists the urge to strangle the boy across from him. “The bottom half can stay on, but if you want that wound properly treated, you’re going to need to at least unzip the top part.”

“Can’t you just - I dunno - work  _ around _ it?” Danny groans.

“If you’re looking for a shoddy stitching job, I’ll gladly refer you to your friend.” The room is starting to grow uncomfortably hot. Danny feels the icy energy of his core bubble through his veins, shooting out a wave of cool to neutralize Vlad’s stupid heat powers.

It’s strange, Danny thinks, that even with being the only two like themselves, their cores are still able to neutralize each others’. It’s lucky.

“Sorry if it’s a little hard to trust you, but weren’t you just trying to clone me, like, last week?” Nevertheless, Danny unzips the back of his jumpsuit, folding down the top half to reveal the blanched skin below.

Vlad is quiet for a moment. Danny knows what he’s looking at. It fills the room with an uncomfortable tension that makes Danny regret coming here for at least the millionth time.

They’re called Lichtenburg figures - the scars. They wrap around his chest and arms and crawl up the back of his neck: branching patterns that mirror the electricity that created them.

It’s a beautiful type of pyrography. It looks like lightning.

Danny thinks he can see the moment it all clicks for Vlad: his weird, panicked behavior; not wanting to be out in the rain; the wicked marks that black and white fabric always hid away.

“What?” Danny asks bitterly. It draws Vlad out of his stupor. “Beginning to regret trying to clone someone who’s afraid of a fucking thunderstorm?”

Danny’s challenging him to say something, but Vlad knows better than to pick that fight. “Shut up, will you?” He grabs another one of those black towels, dousing it with disinfectant. “This is going to sting.”

Danny hisses through his teeth as Vlad wastes no time cleaning the slice. Danny hates to admit it, but he was right about removing the suit - bits of debris and dried ectoplasm had started to run down his side, spreading the mess. It disappears in the wake of the towel.

Danny tries to not think about how close they are, or how awkward this is. From this distance, he can feel the low waves of heat radiating from Vlad's spectral body.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Vlad shoves the towel in his hands. “Put pressure on it.” He instructs. Danny obliges, folding the towel over a few times and pressing the material against his side.

“It’s kinda weird seeing you  _ not _ trying to kill me.” Danny confesses.

Vlad rolls his eyes. “Strange to see you not making a mess of my  _ place of residence.”  _ He frowns. “Though I’m sure you caused enough trouble fighting Technus. I hope you can afford the bills for property damage.”

Danny shrugs nonchalantly. “Sounds like your jurisdiction, Mr. Mayor, sir.”

Vlad doesn’t attempt to hide his annoyance. With an irate, “Stay put,” he wanders from the table to search through a metal cabinet. Danny has a sinking feeling he’s looking for a sewing kit.

His fears are confirmed when Vlad retrieves a small tin box. He gives Danny A Look.

“Are you going to let me do this?”

Danny sighs, defeated. “Do I have a choice?”

Vlad fishes a needle from the box. “It’ll get even worse if you leave it prone to infection.” He says without looking at him.

Yeah, Danny’s gonna have to suck it up.

Vlad produces a flame at the tip of his finger. “You’re just doing that to show off.” Danny sulks, looking away as he sterilizes the needle.

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face.  _ Worst. Day. Ever. _

A minute later, and the needle’s threaded. “Don’t move.” Vlad says. It’s all the warning Danny gets before he starts in on the holding stitch.

He winces. It’s not exactly painful, but he’s not exactly enjoying himself, either. It’s tolerable enough to hold still.

“I assume the other guy has it worse?” Vlad snarks after a beat.

Danny taps the lid of the Fenton Thermos needlessly. “Duh.”

Danny can’t tell what’s worse - the fact that Vlad is quite literally sewing him shut, or the fact that Vlad is trying to be  _ friendly. _

He’s  _ literally _ getting under his skin. The scales demand to be evened. “A sadist like you must be loving this, huh?”

Vlad falters for a moment. A hostile look crosses his face, but it’s muted by the red tint to his cheeks. “Hold your tongue or you might not have it in a few seconds.” He warns, returning back to work. The next stitch hurts a little more than the others - Danny thinks it’s intentional.

Twelve stitches later, and he’s tying the knot off. Danny hunches over to get a better view.

_ “Ow.” _ The stitches tug with the movement.

“Try not to do that too much.” Vlad says helpfully. Danny shoots him a glare. “Anything else?”

The question catches him off guard. Danny blinks. He thinks about the headache lingering near the base of his neck from where Technus slugged him into a wall.

“Maybe a concussion?”

“...That would make sense.” Vlad says appraisingly. He cards a gloved hand through Danny’s pale hair. It’s still slick from the rain. Danny ignores the way he shivers when Vlad applies moderate pressure around his skull. “Does any of this hurt?”

“Physically, or emotionally?” He grimaces as Vlad touches a particularly tender spot. “Uh, actually, yeah.”

Vlad rummages through another nearby drawer and produces a penlight. “Stare at the wall, or just something stationary.” It’s awfully clinical. Danny chooses to stare at his nose to annoy him. Vlad tests the penlight with a few clicks before bringing it up to eye level.

He flashes the light in and out of Danny’s field of view a few times. “What are you even doing?” He grumbles.

Vlad turns the light off and sets it down. “Checking your eyesight. Follow my finger.” He zig-zags his finger around a few times and Danny does his best to follow. “God, you suck at this. You’re definitely concussed.”

“Gee,  _ thanks,  _ doc.” Danny replies, tone dripping with sarcasm. Definitely concussed, huh? That would explain Danny’s vomiting episode back there.

Though a part of him isn’t so sure if it’s the fault of his mild traumatic brain injury or his anxiety attack.

_ Bzzt! _

Danny retrieves his phone from his pocket only to find a dozen missed calls and twice as many missed texts from Sam and Tucker.

Realizing he’s still topless, he takes a moment to shrug his jumpsuit back on - fighting back the way his cheeks flush green.

“Maddie?” Danny hates the way the fruit loop says his mom’s name. He’s looking at Danny’s phone. “...or Jack?” is an afterthought.

“Sam and Tuc,” Danny corrects.

“Not so busy, are they?” Vlad says, catching him in his lie from earlier.

“Th-they’re probably just worried!” Danny splutters. “It’s raining, and I’ve been gone for a bajillion hours - and I haven’t texted them back all night!”

Vlad’s eyes narrow knowingly. “So this happens… often?”

The color is slowly draining from Danny’s face. “What?” He replies, playing dumb. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Not with Vlad, not with anyone.  _ Especially  _ not with Vlad.

Vlad sighs. “You’re really going to make me say it? When you came here, you were clearly panicking.” He doesn’t look at Danny. “Your sister Jasmine is more of a psychologist than I am - but have you perhaps considered - ”

“If you say  _ medication _ or  _ therapy,  _ I’m gonna have to punch a hole through your gut - stitches be damned.”

“I’m just saying - ! ”

_ “Nooo, _ nonono, no, no - nope.” Danny protests, gesturing vehemently. “I’m not having this conversation with  _ you, _ of all people.” His eyes flash a haunting, toxic jade.

When Sam and Tuc had first seen his reaction to the rain, they’d suggested the same thing.  _ “It’s not healthy, Danny.”  _ Sam had said.  _ “What you’re experiencing is… clearly a response to trauma. Maybe you should talk to Jazz.” _

Jazz didn’t know - doesn’t know. Danny still can’t bring himself to tell her. It’s stupid, it’s pathetic. It makes him feel weak and small and all the things a hero isn’t.

It’s the pitiful way they looked at him that hurt the most. Like they could see through it all - could see he’s just as worthless as it all makes him feel.

So Danny decided to keep the panicking to himself. Sam and Tucker decided to patrol rainy nights. They hadn’t seen Danny like that again and Danny hadn’t let them.

“I thought you were different.” Danny says, voicing his thoughts. It’s true - when Vlad had put it all together, he hadn’t said anything. It was stupid of him to think that Vlad wouldn’t make it weird. “Guess I was wrong.”

Vlad’s huffing steam again. “Am I supposed to pretend nothing happened?”

Danny crosses his arms. “Uh, if you could,  _ yeah.” _

“You’re telling me you’re just going to, what? Ignore it?” Vlad returns incredulously. “If it’s this much of a problem, you need to address it at some point instead of letting it fester and worsen.”

“Why do you even care?!” Danny bursts.

There’s a fire dancing in Vlad’s eyes. “I  _ don’t.”  _ He seethes. “Obviously trying to convince you to take care of yourself is a waste of anyone’s time.”

Danny doesn’t understand. Stupid Vlad. He hates that he’s right. He can’t ignore it forever, but… Ugh! This isn’t how things are supposed to go. Why does he  _ care? _ And why does he have to be so  _ stubborn? _

Vlad rolls his eyes. “As much as I’d  _ love  _ to continue being your host,” he snarks, “I’m afraid I’ve grown weary of your stay. I’ll show you to the Portal.”

Danny’s jaw drops to the floor.  _ The Portal.  _ In his frenzy to escape the rain and recover, he’d completely forgotten his option to sneak through Vlad’s portal back to Fentonworks - avoiding the storm a la Ghost Zone.

“What?” Vlad mocks, noting Danny’s expression. “Had you forgotten I have my own, perfectly-capable, highly-functioning Ghost Portal?” He has an evil twinkle in his eye.

“I - no!” Danny stammers. Vlad has a shit-eating grin that makes his blood boil.

The embarrassment is insufferable. Danny silently prays for the floor to swallow him whole.

Vlad floats purposefully through the lab, Danny drifting numbly behind. He’s sending a damage-control text to Sam and Tucker when they make a sharp left.

Danny can feel the aura of the Portal before Vlad can even open the doors - a strange, alluring energy. Like a siren’s hypnotic melody.

Vlad presses a button, and six teethlike-doors sink back into the wall to reveal the hexagonal maw of the Portal. Its light casts the lab in a sickly green glow.

Danny turns to Vlad. For as much as he hates the nutjob, he's grateful for the hospitality. “Ugh, I guess this is where I have to thank you. Even though I’ll be back to kicking your ass tomorrow.”

An odd expression crosses Vlad’s face. Is that… a smile? “I wouldn’t mind if we met on terms like these more often, though.”

“What, where I show up beaten to a pulp and you have to stitch me up?” Danny crinkles his nose. “Ew, I knew you were a sadist.”

He narrowly dodges the blast of ectoplasm that sears past him. It collides with some lab equipment, briefly turning the room pink with its hot light.

_ “Get. Out.” _

Danny doesn’t have to be told twice. He waggles a few fingers at his nemesis before darting through the threshold of the Ghost Zone. The swirling green engulfs him completely. He flies until Vlad's Portal disappears from sight.

Maybe he would take him up on that offer sometime.

Storms are the worst. But Vlad isn't that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
> i'm also on [tumblr](http://boytroll.tumblr.com/)!


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